


A few hours too late

by Sweety_Mutant



Category: Black Sails
Genre: (kinda), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Episode Related, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Parent-Child Relationship, Prison, Short, Stream of Consciousness, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 10:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6901981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweety_Mutant/pseuds/Sweety_Mutant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vane was counting hours in the Death Row, waiting for the end. He was not expecting a visit...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A few hours too late

**Author's Note:**

> So, a few explanations here! 
> 
> This short one shot is the first fic of a Mafia/Gangster AU that I am writing for Black Sails. As I already have long fics in progress and because this AU will be really long with many fics, I am not going to post everything now.  
> I just needed to write this piece, I had to get it out of my head. 
> 
> Now, to your left there is your usual disclaimer, to your right there's me, hoping you'll enjoy reading!

There are one hundred and sixty-eight hours in a week. Charles Vane had hoped at least twenty four of them. Something could happen, anything. There was his mouthpiece, Billy Bones, send by their boss Flint to save him. There was a chance. He was not sure that he was ready to leave this world just yet.

There are one hundred and sixty-eight hours in a week, and now Vane had only seventy-two left. He was called by the security service. His lawyer had asked to see him. Said it was urgent. Yet Billy was not alone in the on the other side of the bars. Eleanor Guthrie, prosecutor, the woman who was already burning him alive in her heart. His archenemy. Under her unyielding glare, Billy looked sadly at Vane.

“Charles…”

“What is it?”

“Jack spoke to me,” there was something wrong in Billy’s eyes. Hope flew away through every pore of Vane’s skin. With a nod, he gestured at Billy to continue. “He was at Ocracoke those last few days.”

At the mere mention of this name, Vane shivered. Wrong indeed.

“Teach… listen, I know the two of you have not been on the best of terms those last few months… since the incident with Flint…”

“What is it?” Urgency in his voice.

“He’s dying, Charles. His heart finally gave in. The surgeons found shrapnel there… say that it caused the failure. Say that he won’t live long. Two days at most.”

Vane closed his eyes, just the time to count a few seconds and assure himself that he would remain calm.

Teach. Edward fucking Teach. Dying. A strangled laugh. What a coincidence, that the father and son would die nearly at the same time!

Billy went on talking. He had to, as long as Vane was in a state to listen.

“I tried to intercede with Guthrie. You know, to give the two of you a chance to see each other again… She refused everything. I had tell it to you like that… I am sorry.”

This time, the laugh was bitter.

“He would not have wanted to see me. He made it very clear the last time we were together.”

… _Take him. Get the fuck off…_

“Charles… he spoke to Jack. He… he told Jack that he would help Flint. That they had no right to condemn his son. That they failed to account for him. He wanted to see you… he had forgiven you Charles.”

Billy remained silent then.

The visiting time was over. Vane thanked him with a nod of the head, not trusting his voice. Before being dragged away, his last glare was for Eleanor. Wet hateful eyes so cold they would have frozen the very centre of the Earth. She, forever haughty, watched him leave with the taste of victory on her tongue.

In the solitude of his cell, Vane stopped counting the hours before his execution. His mentor, his father. His heart screamed he’s dying he’s dead he’s gone I never asked for forgiveness I never said sorry. His heart wept I love you I love you I love you father. I should never have gone with Flint you know there was no other choice I love you had you really forgiven me?

Hours pass faster when one does not count them.

An opportunity to find some measure of peace, the priest said to him. Peace? How could Vane find peace? He was so angry with Eleanor, himself and the whole world. He was so sad, so sorry. He could not care less about the divine thug above. He was angry to have learned too late, to have learned in the same sentence that there was nothing he could do. Oh, how he wanted to have seen Teach one last time, spoken to him or not… Just to be in the same room together, at peace with each other, like father and son. Alone in the world.

Last supper not hungry.

Who was there, watching him die? Microphones, to broadcast his last words to the hungry flock of journalists. He did not feel the restraints tying him to the table. He did not feel the needle.

Am I to go before you or are you waiting for me? I guess we’ll find out soon enough. I hope you’ll say that you love me, down there… I hope I’ll see you long enough to say sorry.

“Get on with it motherfucker.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this fic!  
> I'm sorry not sorry for the angst... oh well, you know me!   
> Feel free to leave a kudo/comment if you liked, and thanks for reading! <3


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